


Nothing to See

by imustgofirst



Category: The Closer
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 09:38:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3129830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imustgofirst/pseuds/imustgofirst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Special Agent Fritz Howard takes a breather at a crime scene. Brenda/Sharon implied. The prompt was "balcony," and I wanted to do something a little different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing to See

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ultragirlvfr750](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultragirlvfr750/gifts).



> Super short, set during season seven of The Closer.

Special Agent Fritz Howard needs a break.

Not a vacation. Not even the luxury of a coffee break. Just a little breather, away from the heat and chaos of this crime scene that looks and sounds more like a war zone. It is strewn with corpses, four of them in the luxury hotel suite, but the warring parties are the FBI, represented by Fritz and the ineffectual Morris; Major Crimes; and, as if that weren't bad enough, FID.

The balcony is the one area free of blood spatter and even less savory substances. He steps through the french door, careful not to disturb any possible prints or trace evidence. Even with the glass open, the sheer curtains fall together behind him, and it is enough for the moment. Twelve stories up, the sounds from ground-level are muted, and even the clusterfuck behind him subsides to a dull roar. He loosens his tie.

He tells himself that he doesn't hate his job. This is just a bad day. He likes so frequently coming into contact with his wife in a professional capacity. No, really. He does. He doesn't regret having passed up that D.C. promotion at all.

His eyelids droop, his gaze falling from the skyline to the area below the hotel, the spacious patio that separates this chi-chi establishment from the beach. There is a smattering of people about, fewer than there would normally be, but who wants to enjoy a stroll by the Pacific with the flashing lights of three police cruisers setting the mood?

The two stationary figures are so familiar that they could blend into the landscape. One wears a black trench coat and has long, precisely straightened brown hair. The other, smaller woman is in a similar coat, but this one a shocking pink, and she keeps reaching up as if fighting the urge to gather her blonde hair into a ponytail.

They stand close, but not too close, and Fritz knows without needing to hear that they are arguing in low voices. Brenda shakes her head violently and Raydor seems to draw herself up an extra inch, as if she has spare height she keeps stored away for special occasions.

Speaking of people who must hate their jobs, Fritz thinks, and reaches up to rub his aching neck.

Raydor leans in slightly, narrowing the space between their bodies, and Brenda is raising her voice, gesturing violently. The captain reaches out suddenly with both hands and grabs Brenda's thin shoulders. Fritz stiffens for half a second, interpreting it as a threatening gesture. Both women remain frozen. Then Brenda's whole body sags, she nods, looks down at the pavement. Raydor tilts her head back slightly, looking over Brenda's head. He is too far away to see her shoulders rise and fall in a deep, long sigh, but he is sure they do.

One of Brenda's hands rises and covers Sharon's where it rests on her shoulder. She has to look up slightly so that they are eye-to-eye. They stand like that for a moment, and Fritz feels uncomfortably like a voyeur, which is absurd.

Brenda's head moves slightly, and she says something. The captain whirls. For a second, he is sure they are looking at him. Then his wife begins striding rapidly back toward the hotel. Raydor waits a couple of seconds, shakes her head, and follows more slowly.

Fritz asks himself why he feels unsettled. He tells himself that he has misconstrued what he has just seen; and then he tells himself that he didn't see anything at all.

He turns and steps back inside, where he is immediately swallowed up by noise and bright lights and the grainy dust of fingerprinting powder. After a couple of minutes a pink-clad woman appears in the doorway, and she looks around instinctively. Their eyes meet. She smiles, and he feels his face soften as he smiles back.

Special Agent Howard reminds himself that he doesn't hate his job.

 


End file.
